Boxed Set: The Speak Easy Series From the series: Speak Easy 1-2
by Melanie Harlow
(Website, Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads)Publication Date: December 8th 2013
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For fans of sexy historical romance and the roaring 20s, this boxed set contains both Speak Easy and Speak Low.
"Hot gangsters, illegal nightclubs, a foul-mouthed daughter of a bootlegger, and scorching sex scenes...Speak Easy captured me from page one." -- Laurelin Paige, bestselling author of Fixed on You.
"If a flapper's life in 1923 was anything like Tiny's, count me in. YES PLEASE! Holy smokes who would have thought the women of the 1920's were leading lives full of HOT HOT steamy sex and adventure." --The Book Bar
Due to mature material, this New Adult historical novel is recommended for readers ages 17+.
SPEAK EASY...The 1920s are roaring, and twenty-year-old Tiny O'Mara wants to be a part of it all. By day she works for her father's smalltime bootlegging operation, and by night she craves the sexy roll-your-stockings-down lifestyle of a flapper--until her father is kidnapped by a mobster in Detroit's exploding organized crime scene, and it's Tiny who has to come up with the ten thousand dollar ransom...in one week.
Suddenly she's thrust into an intoxicating underworld of greed, lust, lies, and betrayal.
Enzo DiFiore is the son of the mobster holding her father hostage, but his sexy screen idol looks and dangerous charm leave her breathless. When the forbidden spark between them refuses to burn out, she tried to use their powerful chemistry to buy more time. Irritatingly handsome childhood pal Joey Lupo has the street smarts she needs to make a quick ten grand, but he's got his own agenda where gang rivalries are concerned. And deciding whom to trust isn't easy in a world where everyone wants something--be it booze, money, power, or sex--and no one cares what it takes to get it.
SPEAK LOW...After bootlegging enough whiskey to free her father from the DiFiore crime family, twenty-year old Tiny O'Mara is determined to leave home and take control of her own life.
But it’s going to cost her.
Her alliance with sultry Enzo DiFiore is based more on their intense physical attraction than any loyalty or trust. When he offers her an apartment and nights spent together where anything goes in exchange for some information, she's tempted beyond measure.
But taking Enzo's side means betraying gorgeous childhood pal Joey Lupo, the only man she trusts. And even though they spend most of their time at each other's throats, the heat simmering between them is becoming too hard to ignore--then one night, it boils over.
And won't stop.
As Enzo’s greed and deception escalate and her feelings for Joey deepen, Tiny realizes her mistakes. She just hopes she gets the chance to fix them before it’s too late.
The guard seated at the entrance nodded at Enzo and pressed a button, which unlocked the inner door. To my surprise, after opening it, Enzo followed me into the tiny vestibule. Then he let the door close, leaving us in the pitch-dark.
Adrenaline shot through me as I waited for him to open the door to the stairwell. Instead, I heard the slam of a deadbolt.
“You don’t really want to leave, do you?” His voice was low and lilting.
He’s teasing me. “Yes. I do.”
“Liar.” He moved closer.
Every inch of my skin pricked with heat. “Look who’s calling who names. I can think of a few to call you, you know.”
His body met mine and he pressed my back into the brick wall. “So do it.”
I dropped my evening bag to the floor. “Thief.”
He took one wrist and pinned it above my head.
“Cheat,” I snarled.
He pinned the other across the first.
“Bastard.” The word lashed from my lips just before he kissed me, and I could have sworn it made him smile.
Out of my mind with desire, I kissed him hungrily, straining against him, desperate to have my arms free. But he held my wrists tight, torturing me with deep thrusts of his tongue between my lips. “Let me go,” I rasped when he dragged his mouth across my cheek and down my neck.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I want to touch you.”
He paused for a second before letting my right arm go. The left he kept pinned above my head.
Breathing hard, I swept my right hand up the inside of his leg and smiled—he was hard. I stroked him like I had in the stairwell, my pulse kicking up as he brought his mouth back to mine. Determined to have the real thing, I opened his coat, pulled his shirt from his trousers, and slipped enough buttons through their holes to slide my hand down against tight, hot skin. Wrapping my hand around his cock, I kept my grasp loose at first, allowing him to slip easily through my fingers. When I felt his breath coming harder and faster on my lips, I tightened my grip, further aroused by his moan of pleasure. His hold on my wrist weakened, and he braced himself against the wall. I’m doing this. I’m bringing him to this. The surge of power was intoxicating.